


On and On

by Caryopsis



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Slow Burn, contemplations on fame and privacy and stuff like that, eventually explicit, maybe a bit heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caryopsis/pseuds/Caryopsis
Summary: At some point in their eight years of work together, Jaebum and Jinyoung had silently acknowledged there was something between them, something that could end their careers in the blink of an eye. Unspoken, muffled by the screams of fans and drowned in the sweat of practice, as much for their own sakes as the other members’. Funny, then, that it should be the combined effects of sweat, fans, and the other members that finally make them lose it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, I've only recently discovered Got7 and this was definitely the pair that stood out to me. Hope you like it!

It was going to be a particularly busy Friday—nothing Jinyoung wasn’t used to, he thought as he shucked off his pajamas in favor of a loose shirt and sweatpants, but dance practice at 7 in the morning was never fun. They’d probably have to eat lunch in the van to make it on time for the fansign later.

Before heading downstairs, he checked each of the other members’ rooms to see if they were awake. Such had become a morning ritual for him. One would think that six adult men—four years into their debut now—would be capable of waking to their own alarms, but Jinyoung the early bird still took it upon himself to take care of them in what little ways he could. Thankfully, they were all up and shuffling around in their rooms this morning. 

Except one, of course.

Jaebum was gone—already down making preparations with their choreographer, Jinyoung assumed. Where Jinyoung thought it his responsibility to look after the members in the little, personal ways, Jaebum cared for them by working in ways the others didn’t always see.

Sure enough, when Jinyoung entered the practice room, several pieces of tape were already laid down elaborately on the floor. By the look of it, the choreography for their new song was going to involve a lot of transitions.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum greets him. He was wearing one of his favorite black muscle shirts, inconveniently exposing more bicep than Jinyoung was prepared to handle so early in the morning. God, he hated that shirt.

Studiously, like always, Jinyoung trained his gaze on his hyung’s face. “Good morning,” he said, nodding to their choreographer as well. While the three of them exchanged pleasantries, the other members began to shuffle in.

The first day of dance practice for a new song always seemed to go on forever. Watching a video of a separate dance troupe to demonstrate, the choreography would always seem impossibly difficult at first. Jinyoung remembered how his jaw had nearly dropped to the floor when they were told they had to master Hard Carry under a month. But over time, they’d learn it the same way as always: first the core dance, then their positions and when to switch, then timing their breathing to make it so they could still sing or rap with the dance. Then the polishing, which would ideally take months to meet the producers’ standards—months they didn’t have, which meant they’d have to give up some sleep. 

Such was the life of an idol, and it wasn’t easy. But he and Jaebum had been at it for nearly a decade now, longer than anyone else in the group. And yet, Jinyoung noticed, Jaebum was still always the first one in the practice room and the last one out. 

Yes, Park Jinyoung was always noticing. 

While the members watched as the choreographer demonstrated their new routine, Jinyoung noticed how Jaebum’s feet were already making eager movements to mimic the key segments. Clearly he’d already gotten a headstart on practice, just like always. 

When they stood in formation to learn the intro, choreographer calling out _one, two, three, four_ to match their steps to the beat, Jinyoung noticed how Jaebum would count along with him under his breath while they danced. It had been a habit of his since trainee days, one that Jinyoung found a little too endearing.

About an hour in, Jinyoung noticed how Jaebum’s upper arms began to shine with sweat, and how it highlighted the firm ridges of muscle. Jinyoung sighed internally, his efforts at ignoring them earlier in the morning wasted.

“Good job guys, take five,” the choreographer called.

Jinyoung quickly slipped away to get some bottles of water from the vending machine outside, grateful to breathe some air that didn’t smell so much of sweat.

“Thanks, eomma,” Bambam chimed as Jinyoung threw him a bottle, the other members following suit with their thanks.

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebum said with a smile as Jinyoung handed him a bottle. “Thanks.”

This was nothing out of the ordinary, Jinyoung content with simple thank yous. But there was something about this particular Friday, he would soon learn, that would turn out above the ordinary.

“No problem, hyung.”

“You know, I probably don’t say this enough,” Jaebum said casually in between swigs of water. “But really, thank you. For always looking out for them.” 

There was some sweat collecting just at the moles above his left eye that Jinyoung itched to wipe off. As with every other time he got the urge to make contact with Jaebum, he considered briefly who was watching, what kind of message it gave. Harmless enough, he decided.

Jinyoung reached up with the towel slung over his shoulder to dab the perspiration away.

“And me,” Jaebum added with a small smile.

It seemed that Im Jaebum noticed some things as well.

 

Jaebum was ready to fall asleep in his chair as the stylist applied his makeup. Reveling in a shower after three hours of dance practice, he wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed from fatigue. Alas, here he was an hour later getting his face put together to greet three hundred fans. 

“Jaebum-ah, open your eyes for a bit,” the noona requested gently. He complied, and she brushed just a bit of coral shadow under his bottom lashes. 

From the mirror in front of him, he could see Jinyoung in the chair to his left, looking over a book as another noona blowdried his hair this way and that. He smirked a little, knowing Jinyoung would be nose-deep in it, if only he had some more freedom with his head. 

“Dibs on first chair,” Jackson called from the other end of the room, excited as always.

After a playful argument over who got first chair at the last fan meeting, in which Jackson and Bambam had ruined each other’s hair wrestling on the couch, the seven of them had established a rule: whoever got their hair and makeup done first could call dibs first, too. 

In this instance, Jaebum was content to be as far from the first as possible. Fans were usually giddiest at the start of the line, starstruck at meeting any one of their idols. Naturally, Jackson loved that.

“Hyung, don’t fall asleep in front of the fans later,” Yugyeom teased him from the chair to his right. 

It wasn’t that Jaebum disliked fansigns—every day, he thanked his lucky stars for Got7’s success and popularity—but he couldn’t deny that he had to put on something of an act when meeting fans in person.

He remembered a particularly honest conversation he’d had with Jinyoung after they’d first debuted as Got7. The younger still went by Junior back then, Jaebum smirking as he recalled.

_“It feels a bit dishonest, doesn't it?” Jinyoung told him in the dressing room. “When we pretend to be their boyfriends for a few seconds.” There weren’t many times Jinyoung was distressed beyond mild annoyance, but whenever he had something heavy in mind, he’d always come to Jaebum or Mark first. “Say something sweet and never see them again.”_

__

__

_“We’re making them happy,” Jaebum replied. “It’s our job to make them happy. And there’s nothing dishonest about doing your job.”_

Back then, Jaebum had been nearly bursting with excitement at debuting as the leader of a new group, happy to do anything their managers said would please the fans. Now, four years later, Jaebum finally began to understand Jinyoung’s discomfort. That boy had always been wise beyond his years. 

There were simply days when wearing sailor outfits or doing aegyo felt too unlike himself, sometimes even demeaning. Yes, maintaining appearances was still his job, but maybe it wasn’t as simple as Jaebum had said before.

“Hyung, you need to wake up.” Jinyoung nudged him with a bottle of iced coffee. Jaebum hadn’t realized his eyes had fallen closed again. “Ahgase need the leader at full energy!”

Maybe Jinyoung had taken his advice a little too well, Jaebum thought a little guiltily.

But when they’d been sitting there for two hours, Jaebum at the seventh chair like he wanted, and Jinyoung at the sixth, he remembered that much of what they show the fans was real, anyway. Though his hand was tired from writing hundreds of notes and the cat-ear headband a fan had given him early on was starting to dig in behind his temples, seeing the other members smile genuinely gave him more energy. The sight of Youngjae fitting a microphone in his mouth and his subsequent million-decibel laughter particularly helped.

A girl about sixteen stopped as she moved from Jinyoung to Jaebum, eyes sparkling as she made a request. “Jaebum oppa, can you do something sweet with Jinyoung oppa?” 

Though it was second nature now, Jaebum used to be the least comfortable with skinship among the members. Even back then, though, there was one person whose touch never strange, and Jaebum was grateful he had sat next to him.

Jinyoung quickly wrapped his arms around Jaebum’s shoulders in a koala hug, as he so often did, all the little lines showing under his eyes as he smiled ear to ear. Jaebum laughed and squeezed the arm draped across his chest, natural as the grass growing outside. As he turned to make a funny face at Jinyoung, he could’ve sworn there was a new line under the younger boy’s eye.

Jinyoung, the boy who was too smart for his own good.

The girl squealed as Jinyoung playfully snatched Jaebum’s cat ears and placed them on his own head, halting the dull throb in his head along with anything else bothering Jaebum at the moment.

Jinyoung, who always seemed to know what Jaebum needed.

 

They were all exhausted by the time the van deposited them back in their dorm, most of them shucking off their shoes and scrabbling to the bathrooms to take off their makeup. 

Jaebum didn’t make it past the couch in the living room, though. 

Jinyoung knew he had the right to be tired since he’d been up longer than anyone that day, but he clucked his tongue in a mild scolding anyway. “Aish, hyung, falling asleep with your makeup on is such a rookie mistake.”

“What if I want to go back to being a rookie,” Jaebum mumbled. “The schedules were never this bad.”

Jinyoung smiled discreetly as he went to sit by Jaebum’s legs at the couch. He knew even the leader had to complain once in a while, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that Jaebum reserved these things only for him. He also found it quite endearing how Jaebum whined like a little kid while sprawled out on the couch.

“You mean that, hyung?” Jinyoung asked, poking Jaebum’s side lightly. “You’d give up most of our fanbase and earnings for a bit more free time?”

Jaebum sat up thoughtfully. A minute ago he had been complaining half-jokingly, but Jinyoung had a way of turning conversations deeper. “Of course not,” Jaebum said. “But don’t you miss— I don’t know, having a sense of normalcy?”

Before Jinyoung could reply, Youngjae’s head peeked out from the doorway. “Hyungs,” he said, sounding somewhat apologetic. “Uhh… Bambam knocked over the makeup remover bottle by accident, so we’re all out. Sorry!”

Jaebum groaned half-heartedly. Although Youngjae immediately ran off with the intention of avoiding the wrath of his hyungs, both of them loved that boy too much to shoot the messenger.

“Don’t worry, hyung, I’ll buy it,” Jinyoung said, standing up immediately.

Jaebum’s chest swelled at how, for the hundredth time that day, Jinyoung was willing to do something for him, even if it was simple. Maybe the millionth time since they’d met, he thought.

“I’ll come with,” Jaebum said, and Jinyoung could practically see the idea sparkling in his eyes.

 

The convenience store was one of the few places within the narrow radius of their dorm that they were allowed to go without managers or security. Not that that hadn’t stopped them from sneaking out to bars or clubs once in a while, but the two of them were way too tired for that tonight. Instead, Jaebum settled for taking the party home as he slid a six-pack of beer onto the counter next to the bottles of makeup remover.

“But aren’t you Got _seven_ ,” joked the ahjumma behind the counter. She was quite familiar with the boys by now, seeing as this was one of the few places they could shop unwatched.

Jinyoung added a bottle of wine to the counter. “That makes seven, ahjumma,” he joked along. Jaebum knew how contagious Jinyoung’s smile could be, his playfulness easily making him that ahjumma’s favorite among them. Jaebum couldn’t blame her.

It wasn’t the first time Jaebum and Jinyoung had stayed up drinking without the other members, Jaebum recalled as they got back to the dorm. It had been a tradition since the days of JJ Project, after all, though they were maybe a little underage back then. Just a little.

It was the Friday night after a long week of work, and they deserved to take the edge off, feeling a bit more awake after the walk outside. The other members seemed to be fast asleep in their own rooms, so Jaebum and Jinyoung claimed the living room for themselves. They sat angled toward each other on the couch, each with an arm on its back.

Jaebum cracked into his first beer while Jinyoung went straight for the wine. Jinyoung couldn’t help but recall one of the first times they’d gotten drunk together, Jaebum still with his awful yellow and orange hair and himself still sporting a healthy dose of brattiness. They could barely hold their alcohol back then, talking nonsense after only a couple beers each.

While Jaebum reached for his drink, Jinyoung took the moment to admire just how much he’d grown up. Taller and more sculpted, cheekbones impossibly prominent as they tapered down to a strong set jaw. What never changed about Jaebum was his eyes, though: sharp as ever, and still folding into lines anytime he smiled. But it was only for a moment that Jinyoung allowed himself to be distracted.

“Actually, hyung,” Jinyoung said, clutching the neck of the wine bottle. “I don’t miss it.”

“Hmm?”

“What you said earlier, about normalcy.”

Jaebum had nearly forgotten their prior conversation. Leave it to Jinyoung to bring up something serious—Jaebum knew Jinyoung loved to talk about the things that really mattered whenever he got the chance. Sitting there on the couch, clutching his bottle deep in thought, he knew they’d be talking for hours. Jaebum was quite the insightful person himself, given enough time to think about things.

“To be honest,” Jinyoung said carefully, “I never wanted to be normal. I like fame. I like people treating me well. Sure, we get treated differently even when we don’t want it sometimes, but I’d rather that than not be remembered at all.”

Jaebum was taken aback. Not by the answer itself—Jaebum would never judge Jinyoung—but by the honesty. In interviews and concerts, they would never dare say they loved the attention; no, they always directed attention back to their fans. They would say they were overwhelmed at the thought of being celebrities. Rookie heart, as Jackson always said.

It was something of a revelation to Jaebum that Jinyoung had been acting all that time.

“I can’t say the same,” Jaebum replied. “Half the time I’m not sure what to do with the attention, and I’d be content to be outside the spotlight if I still got to make music and support myself.”

Jinyoung blanched a little. Had he just made himself sound too fame-hungry to one of his longest friends?

“Yah, Jinyoung, relax. I know where you’re coming from,” Jaebum said, nudging him with his elbow. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more for yourself. You deserve it.”

Jaebum hadn’t intended for the last part to sound so tender. He didn’t regret it, though, when he saw Jinyoung’s eyes soften at the comment.

“And don’t worry about normalcy, Jinyoungie,” Jaebum quipped. “You’ve never been normal.”

Jinyoung groaned, throwing a cushion at Jaebum.

 

The hours pass lazily, comfortably. 

“Jinyoungie, save some for me,” Jaebum slurred as he reached for the bottle in Jinyoung’s hand, down to its last few swigs after being passed between them throughout the night. They were well out of beer as well.

“No way, hyung,” Jinyoung teased. “It’s mine.”

Jaebum suddenly tugged at his pant leg, causing the younger to slide closer into his reach. Jinyoung retaliated with a playful knee to Jaebum’s chest, stunning him just long enough for Jinyoung to down the rest of the wine. He waggled his eyebrows at his hyung, as if in a challenge.

Jaebum grinned.

What ensued next was somewhere between a wrestling match and a pillow fight, the two of them laughing nearly in hysterics as they tried to pin down and suffocate each other with one of the couch cushions. The two of them had always had something of a competitive streak to them, sometimes taking wrestling matches on variety shows just a bit too seriously. Back at the dorm, with no managers to rein them in, things could get a little messy from time to time.

But again, this Friday was proving itself to be different. 

After ten minutes of grabbing at and wriggling out of each other’s grasps, Jaebum finally found purchase at the back of Jinyoung’s knees where he was balancing on them, yanking them so the younger boy fell flat on his back. Jaebum wasted no time smothering him with a cushion until Jinyoung tapped out. 

Jaebum removed the cushion to find Jinyoung covering his mouth with his hand as he laughed. Jaebum couldn’t tear his gaze away from that one line under his right, and then the older boy was reaching out to graze it with his palm.

Jinyoung was stunned into silence as Jaebum removed his hand from his mouth.

“Yeah, this definitely wasn’t here before,” Jaebum mumbled.

Jinyoung thought Jaebum was going to fall on top of him, crush him, but then Jaebum’s head stopped just a few centimeters short. And then Jaebum was brushing his lips right under Jinyoung’s right eye.

All at once, a thousand images flashed in Jinyoung’s mind. Games in variety shows where their lips had gotten too close, Jinyoung all the while forcing his expression into something funny. Awards shows where Jaebum grinned at him with such sheer happiness that Jinyoung wanted nothing more than to taste his smile. Moments of frustration when Jaebum’s songs had gotten rejected, and Jinyoung embraced him like he would break if he let go.

All those times Jinyoung prayed no one could hear his thundering heartbeat or see the longing behind his eyes. All those times he forced himself to use his greatest talent: acting.

All those times Jinyoung tossed in the trash with hardly a second thought, as he angled his face up to catch Jaebum’s lips with his own as they fell off his cheek.

If either of them was stunned, they didn’t say anything about it, simply reveling in the feeling of something finally clicking into place. Jaebum was the first to move, tilting his head and adding pressure, something warm building in his gut at the sensation of Jinyoung’s full lips against his own.

Jinyoung responded like it was second nature, pressing into Jaebum’s mouth as if to ask a question. Jaebum’s mouth fell just barely open, breath hitching as Jinyoung flicked a curious tongue inside. When their tongues met, Jaebum made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a hiccup, snapping Jinyoung back to reality.

He pushed Jaebum off him a little more harshly than intended, but the same panic filling his chest was soon visible in Jaebum’s eyes as well.

Jinyoung willed himself to look anywhere but there as he sat up. Empty cans of beer and bits of glass whose shattering had gone unnoticed were strewn about the floor.

“We made a mess,” were the only words that Jinyoung could muster.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JJP stuff mentioned in this chapter:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktdqlQ1zhg4 - Tomorrow, Today MV
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJzWaZAVhnU - comeback stage
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Jinyoung was thankful for many things. He was thankful for his family supporting his dreams of becoming a star from the beginning. Thankful for achieving those dreams, becoming a face recognizable throughout the country and even around the world. Thankful that with what he earned pursuing those dreams, he could support his family in return. Thankful that that family had grown to include six more brothers, sharing in those dreams.

Particularly, he was thankful for his relationship with Jaebum. 

For the better part of eight years, they had been, for all intents and purposes, attached at the hip. Back when it was just the two of them, the sudden and constant proximity sometimes got uncomfortable, magnified by Jaebum’s volatile temper at the time. Jinyoung had lost count of the number of times they’d fought, the worst of it when management had informed them that JJ Project would not release another album, and instead they would return to being trainees. At one point, they were no more than a hair’s breadth shy of walking away from it all, driven by the frustration of the work as much as by each other.

But they had survived that, and had become stronger for it: Jaebum learning to channel his temper into authority as leader, and Jinyoung shedding his petty complaints in favor of strangely maternal instincts. To adjust to their new group, they had to grow up faster than the others. Jaebum and Jinyoung hardly spoke of this, but it was mutually understood.

Likewise, even when Jaebum hadn’t said the words, Jinyoung understood that Friday night was never to be mentioned again.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum had said gruffly, neither of them able to move his gaze from the floor as they sat several feet apart.

“No, it was my fault, I’ll clean th—” 

“I’ll fix it,” Jaebum had said, finally turning to look Jinyoung in the eye. “Just go to sleep.”

His voice was calm but firm, the tone not dissimilar to what he’d use when directing their group as a whole. But Jinyoung couldn’t look away from his eyes, overflowing with a hundred emotions.

“Please, Jinyoung.”

“Okay.”

And that was that.

Truly, Jinyoung was thankful that he and Jaebum knew each other well enough that they could put it behind them with such ease. By the time Jinyoung had awoken the next day, all traces of the night before were gone. Beer cans and shards of glass had been neatly disposed, the drunken haze had dispersed, and contact with Jaebum had returned to neutrality.

And yet, by the time a new week rolled around, Jinyoung couldn’t help but ponder some incidents he’d pushed to the back of his mind, small but bothersome bits of his interactions with Jaebum that were beginning to pile up.

The first anomaly was immediately after the fact, Jinyoung expecting them all to share a lazy Saturday at the dorm watching movies as they usually did. But Jaebum had slept in, only leaving his room for meals. Two days after, they’d all gone out for samgyeopsal after practice, and Jaebum had sat as far away from him as possible. It wasn’t that Jaebum was flat out ignoring him, but the leader was suddenly spending any and all free time on songwriting and gym runs. Free time that they usually spent lounging around and talking. It bothered Jinyoung that the loss of simple time together bothered him at all.

Jinyoung could hardly believe himself. By anyone’s standard, he had it all: money, fame, and a bright future. It should’ve been enough. He should be thankful. He _was_ thankful. But here he was, unable to keep his mind off the one thing that could ruin it all. 

In times like these, Jinyoung resorted to his books. He had stacks and stacks of them in his room, his backlog only increasing as his schedules got busier and his impulse for buying them got worse. Really, any of the dozens of untouched paperbacks would do, as long as he had somewhere to redirect his attention. So he grabbed the title at the top of the stack, one of Murakami’s latest.

And hell if he didn’t latch onto that book for dear life. Throughout that week, he’d spent every waking moment outside of their schedules and meals reading, transporting himself to the world of story. This was not behavior the other members were unused to seeing from him; they all knew Jinyoung had a penchant for literature and that he needed to disengage once in a while. What they didn’t know was that most of the time, Jinyoung would get lost between pages to avoid his problems. He found it was much easier to do when he had some character’s woes to worry about instead of his own.

This plan had worked for the better part of the week, Jinyoung successfully chasing thoughts of the kiss and its implications from his mind. But ironically enough, it was when they had no interviews or rehearsals scheduled that he couldn’t catch a break. Today was one of such rare free days, and Jinyoung hated it. He grappled with the same page of his book for nearly half an hour as a voice in his head kept reminding him that Murakami was Jaebum’s favorite author.

Jinyoung was ready to throw the book at the wall when someone knocked at his door. He quickly arranged his features to project casual interest, all traces of frustration erased. Training his facial expression was a skill he’d developed over the years, using it to put the other members at ease in the rare times he’d get angry or sad. He’d had to do it an alarming number of times this week.

“Come in,” he called.

The sight of a mop of red hair immediately let Jinyoung relax his expression. He’d always thought Mark was something of a paradox, drawing eyes wherever he went in public but inherently quiet in private. Jinyoung suspected it was this very nature that let him open up to Mark soon after they’d met; he exuded a sense of calm and understanding that easily coaxed the baggage out of Jinyoung.

Normally, Jinyoung would approach Jaebum with such problems. But when Jaebum was the problem, well, Jinyoung was glad there was another person older than him in the group that wasn’t as loud as Jackson.

“So, you ready to tell me what’s up with you and Jaebum?” Mark asked casually as he sat down on Jinyoung’s bed. Normally, Mark spent his free time on his phone or playing games, but he always maintained some level of observation on the other members. In fact, Jinyoung believed that Mark was even more perceptive than Jaebum when he wanted to be; it was just that he rarely needed to.

Jinyoung sighed. It seemed that Mark thought this was one of those times.

“No? Damn, what’s it been, a week? I thought you’d be the one to approach me by now,” Mark said. His tone was teasing, but Jinyoung knew he was asking out of genuine concern.

Jinyoung set aside his novel and walked over to shut the door. “I think I’m in pretty deep shit this time,” he admitted. 

“You’re killing me with the suspense here, Jinyoungie.”

Jinyoung knew Mark was going to get it out of him sooner or later. “I kissed him,” he said, arms crossed and gaze trained on the ground. He was leaning on the door for support, the weight of his own words making the action seem too real.

“After the fansign?” Mark asked calmly. 

“Yeah. We were a little drunk.”

Faced with any situation, Mark tended to collect as many details as he could before making any judgments, something Jinyoung had always appreciated about him. It was one of the reasons Jinyoung had essentially made Mark his confidante within the group years ago, the others being sound advice and unquestionable trustworthiness.

Jinyoung clearly remembered the day he first approached Mark regarding Jaebum. It was over five years ago, just months after they’d become trainees again.

Teenage Jinyoung had run back to the dorm nearly in tears and found Mark to be the only person there. But he’d needed to tell someone, anyone, what he was feeling.

_“I wanted to kiss him, hyung,” Jinyoung admitted, just on the edge of a breakdown. “He got mad at me for messing up some dance steps, so we did it again and I tripped and hurt my knee, and then he apologized and hugged me—it was too much happening at once and God, I just wanted to kiss him.”_

_If Mark was startled by the torrent of confessions and emotions from Jinyoung, he didn’t show it, quickly settling the younger boy down on the couch and fetching him a box of tissues._

_“Is that normal, hyung? I wanted to kiss another boy,” Jinyoung asked, sounding for all the world like a small child._

_“Oh c’mon, Jinyoung,” Mark said in English, handing him another tissue fondly. “I’m from California. I’ve seen boys kiss girls and boys kiss boys and girls kiss girls, and trust me it’s all the same. We’re all just people who feel things for other people.”_

_Jinyoung was a little jealous of how Mark could speak so casually about such things. The younger boy had been brought up much differently, and they both knew the entertainment industry in South Korea was unforgiving in these matters. But still, listening to someone so free of prejudice, who told him he was normal with such sincerity, was enough to make Jinyoung smile again._

_“And I’ve seen a lot more than kissing, you know, American high schools can be pretty gross,” Mark added with a teasing grin._

Ever since then, Mark and Jinyoung had been there for each other, the younger boy able to give advice on life in Korea in return. Slowly, by talking with Mark and reading more books with an open outlook, Jinyoung had learned to understand and accept himself.

Still, he hadn’t dared say or do anything to betray his feelings to anyone other than Mark, and that had included Jaebum—until now.

“Wow,” was all Mark said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just, wow. It finally happened.”

“I’m pretty sure Jaebum is trying to convince himself it didn’t,” Jinyoung sighed.

“So that’s it? JB’s mad just ‘cause you gave him a little kiss?” Mark said, holding back a laugh. “He had to have seen it coming at some point.”

“Actually,” Jinyoung said, blushing internally at the memory of Jaebum’s lips on his own. “He, uh— he kissed back.”

Understanding widened Mark’s eyes. He and Jinyoung had speculated before whether Jaebum got the same urges that Jinyoung did, but never spoke of it aloud. It wasn’t as if the answer mattered, given their circumstances.

“Hm. I always thought Jaebum was too much of a chicken to actually go in,” Mark said, punctuating it with one of his signature high-pitched laughs.

Jinyoung elbowed him in the side. “What, you were sure how he felt about me?”

“Well, I was never _completely_ sure,” Mark said, “But not everyone can be an actor extraordinaire like you, Jinyoungie.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “I guess it makes things less awkward, you know, the fact that it’s not one-sided…”

“But you’re still gonna talk to him, right?” Mark asked casually, pulling out his phone and flopping back on Jinyoung’s bed like the whole crisis was already averted.

“Why is that on me?”

“Because he’s the one who’s mad,” Mark replied. “You know how Jaebum can overthink sometimes. I mean, it was just stress and alcohol, and maybe you guys were a little horny, who cares, right? He’s acting this way ‘cause he’s reading more into it.”

Once again Jinyoung envied Mark, who saw only simple problems and simple solutions. But even though he couldn’t completely admit it to himself, let alone Mark, Jinyoung was the one reading into the events of last Friday a little too much. Far more than he was into the stack of paperbacks on his bedside table, even.

 

Frustration was eating away at Jaebum.

There had been a melody stuck in his head for over a week now, a slow and sad tune that was surely the beginnings of a ballad. It was as catchy as it was haunting—not quite apt for Got7’s sound—and Jaebum knew he wanted it to be on the next JJ Project EP. 

The problem, however, was the words. Usually, lyrics flowed from Jaebum like water out a faucet, his lines often becoming the heart or hook of both JJP’s and Got7’s songs. But this week, he was coming up short. He’d tried many different environments just to give him some inspiration: in his room with his old-fashioned notebook and favorite fountain pen, on his phone between reps at the gym, and even using his laptop while perched on the toilet. No matter what he wrote, each line just couldn’t seem to weave into the next, mashed together with nothing but clumsy rhymes to connect them.

It didn’t help that there was another source of frustration in his life that was never more than two doors down.

Jaebum sighed. It wasn’t as if Jinyoung had done anything wrong—yes, he’d been the one to kiss Jaebum, but Jaebum had egged it on with their drinking and his illogical obsession with the crinkles under Jinyoung’s eyes.

Suddenly, Jaebum’s fingers were flying over the keyboard, musings on sweet smiles and lined eyes that fit perfectly in time with the melody in his head appearing unbidden on his laptop screen. 

Jaebum had never hit the backspace key so furiously in his life.

If he was being completely honest with himself, he’d known Jinyoung was special since before they even debuted as JJ Project. He’d always had a certain sense of admiration for Jinyoung, the boy that forgave him no matter how many times he lost his temper, that urged him to practice and work harder without ever losing his cool himself. 

As the years passed and Jinyoung had matured from a playful younger brother figure into a caring and reliable member that the older boy considered to be every bit his equal, Jaebum had learned to appreciate him even more. It was in the way he watched out for the others, how he carried himself with an air of refinement, and the calm he exuded in perfect balance with Jaebum’s passion. But it was less than a year ago that the admiration he’d long held had crystallized into something tangible. 

Jaebum remembered it clearly: the day of their comeback stage for Tomorrow, Today. They’d just released Verse 2, their first comeback as JJ Project in half a decade. The two of them had worked day in and day out for the better part of the year to put together songs they were truly proud of. As much as they loved Got7, the songs they released as a group were often restricted to the usual boy group offerings: simple lyrics of love and relationships, and sounds heavily influenced by whatever was most popular at the time. But working on their EP, their creativity thrived more than ever as they touched on thoughts of youth, expectation, and ambition.

They had gone through months of photoshoots and rehearsals, all of it leading up to that day. Jaebum was no stranger to touching Jinyoung, the two of them often made to embrace or put their arms around each other or lie in a pile with the other members for photoshoots, and this time was more of the same. Though they touched hands in mirror movements, Jaebum had thought nothing strange of their choreography for that stage. They just needed two more chairs and a few more facial expressions than usual.

But right after they’d finished, the screams of fans nearly drowned out Jinyoung’s voice as he said the words that opened the floodgates in Jaebum’s mind.

“I’m proud of us,” Jinyoung said.

Looking at Jinyoung standing there in his oversized white pinstriped button-down, immaculate save for a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead, Jaebum suddenly wanted nothing more than to shove him right back onstage and onto his chair and crash their mouths together. 

It got a lot worse after that, Jaebum constantly catching himself looking at Jinyoung in ways he never had before. The variety and reality shows they filmed were the worst, with the staff constantly encouraging them to put their arms around each other or lie in each other’s laps. Every so often, Jaebum had to relieve himself of those thoughts with some music turned up obscenely loud, feeling a lot dirtier than he should after a shower. Most of the time, it was enough to keep him sane as he waited for the urges to pass, hoping for dear life that Jinyoung didn’t see.

But as it turned out, all it took was some beer and that damned eye smile for Jaebum to blow his months of caution out of the water.

This week had been absolute torture, Jaebum forcing himself to interact with Jinyoung at the barest minimum, never really meeting his eyes when they talked. He covered everything up with the alibi of songwriting, hoping the other members wouldn’t notice. But every time he left a room, he could feel a particular pair of eyes trained upon his back, heavy with some emotion he couldn’t place. He didn’t know whether Jinyoung was sad or mad or confused, just that he was unhappy—and that was enough to weigh down Jaebum’s every step with guilt.

Jinyoung wanted to talk, and though he was nearly trying to drown himself in books while Jaebum simmered down, Jaebum knew it was coming. Jinyoung was forgiving, yes, but more willing to face confrontation than Jaebum had ever been. It was something a leader could stand to learn, Jaebum thought.

And so Jaebum rapped at Jinyoung’s door with resolve.

A resolve that promptly evaporated when Jinyoung opened the door, thick black frames falling on his nose and a paperback in the hand not holding the knob. It was his fourth book in a week, Jaebum thought absentmindedly.

“Jaebum hyung,” Jinyoung said tentatively.

“Can I… borrow a book?” Jaebum asked.

Jinyoung smiled, surprise tinging the corners of his eyes. “Of course.”

Though they had all gotten their own rooms in the dorm late last year, a lot of them still opted to bunk together, missing the comforting sounds of snores and shifting that they’d gotten so used to. Bambam and Yugyeom could hardly be torn apart, and Jaebum himself often visited Youngjae. The exception was Jinyoung, who was always holed up by himself, happy to fill up the extra space with books and silence.

“I’ve got songwriter’s block,” Jaebum said as he headed over to the shelf on the far wall. “Got anything in here to inspire me?”

Jinyoung chuckled, the sound a comfort to Jaebum after going nearly a week without it. “I’m pretty sure Murakami-ssi misses you.”

Back when they were trainees, it was Jaebum who introduced Jinyoung to the joys of reading. As soon as Jaebum finished a book, he’d pass it on to the younger boy, who would finish it twice as fast. Over the years, Jaebum had gotten too busy for reading, devoting more time to writing and producing music; on the other hand, Jinyoung’s taste in books had only gotten more eclectic.

Jaebum felt Jinyoung approaching as he busied himself scanning the shelf. 

“And hyung, so do I,” Jinyoung said, the sadness in his tone causing Jaebum to turn and face him immediately. “Are you mad about last Friday?”

Jaebum’s expression softened as he leaned sideways against the bookshelf. “Yeah,” he said, and Jinyoung’s eyes momentarily filled with panic, “but not at you, Jinyoung. At myself. It was my mistake, I shouldn’t have—”

 _Kissed you right there_ , were the words he couldn’t bring himself to say, as he stared at the spot right under Jinyoung’s eye.

“Hey don’t put the blame on yourself,” Jinyoung said. “It just was stress.”

_Just stress._

“And alcohol.”

_Just alcohol._

“And maybe I’m just too handsome,” Jinyoung said, his tone suddenly light. The lines and dimples were showing up again, and just like that Jaebum was out of his own head.

“Excuse me? You kissed _me_ ,” he retorted, shoving Jinyoung lightly on the shoulder and causing the younger boy to drop his paperback. “Ah, sorry...” When Jaebum moved to pick it up for him, he recognized the cover.

“Didn’t you read this already? You liked it so much you wanted to put it in the MV,” Jaebum said, reading the title aloud. “The Catcher in the Rye.”

Jinyoung giggled, immediately covering his mouth with his hand. One of his oldest habits.

“Yah, Jinyoung, why do you laugh when I say anything in English?”

“Nothing, hyung,” Jinyoung sing-songed, snatching the book out of Jaebum’s hands. “And for your information, this time I’m reading it in English for a challenge.”

Jaebum felt another little pang of admiration for the younger boy. Jinyoung had always had a knack for languages, his Japanese also being the best in their group.

“Lend me your Korean copy, then,” Jaebum said. “I don’t think I ever finished it.”

Jinyoung fished the twin book out of the shelf, tossing it to Jaebum with a smile.

“Thanks, Jinyoungie.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” Jinyoung said, and Jaebum knew he was talking about more than the book. “We were just clumsy and drunk; if anything, it’s a funny story we can tell on some variety show.”

Jaebum nodded, finally meeting Jinyoung’s eyes. They were full of calm and comfort, same as they would be every time Jaebum lost his temper. He should’ve been happy to clear the air between them, that Jinyoung was making no big deal of it. 

And yet, as he left Jinyoung’s room, he found himself gripping his borrowed book a little too tightly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m not really sure about Got7’s living arrangements, but for the purposes of this fic, let’s just pretend their dorm is on one of the upper floors of the JYP building, with the practice rooms and studios downstairs. 
> 
> Also, there’s some OCs popping up in this chapter—hope you don’t mind.

No more than a week had passed before Jaebum was starting to think Jinyoung was killing him with kindness. It wasn’t that Jinyoung was being more thoughtful than usual; Jinyoung’s usual was thoughtful, always volunteering to do Jaebum’s share of their chores when he was too busy with songs. Normally, Jaebum wouldn’t have let him do the extra work. But after long nights of recording and mixing a demo for his new song, he’d often wake up a little past his alarm and find the trash already taken out, or the laundry already in the washing machine.

These were things Jinyoung had done for him before. But ever since their drunken mishap, all the same things Jinyoung used to do took on different meanings in Jaebum’s eyes. It was absolutely grating at him that the same wasn’t true for Jinyoung—that he brushed off Jaebum’s thanks with nothing more than a smile and a nod before returning to his books. That it was no big deal that his loaned book was the reason Jaebum had made any progress with the song in the first place. No big deal that they had kissed.

Ah, there it was. The real reason Jaebum wanted to smack that smile off Jinyoung’s face as much as he wanted to feel it on his lips again.

At least the new song was coming together well, Jaebum having completed the base instrumental track on his fourth sleepless night. He added in filler vocals on the fifth night, not because the lyrics weren’t close to completion—he only lacked the chorus, now—but because he wanted them perfect before showing the producers.

Still, he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement as walked the hallways of the JYPE building that had been his home for so long. He’d worked really hard on this one, and he had the eyebags to prove it.

When he entered the recording studio, one of dozens in the building, one of the JYP senior producers was already leaning against the one of the giant speakers. The computer, workstation, and the majority of the audio interface were propped up against a glass wall, behind which was the recording room proper. Inside, microphones, filters, and headsets were arranged haphazardly between the soundproofed walls.

“Yah, JB, you’re late,” said the producer, clucking his tongue without looking up from his phone. He was a lanky middle-aged man whom Jaebum had never seen without a leather jacket. He was admittedly one of Jaebum’s least favorite people to work with—one of the reasons being that he never addressed Jaebum by his real name. But Jaebum had wanted to show one of his superiors his work as soon as possible, and he was the only one available today.

Jaebum glanced at the digital clock on the far wall, clearly displaying that he was actually five minutes earlier than the meeting time they’d agreed on. He held back a grimace as he plugged his USB into the computer. Jinyoung hated this guy even more than he did, but he always reminded Jaebum to acquiesce in his presence. 

“Sorry, Dongmin-ssi,” Jaebum said, hoping he managed the apologetic smile even half as well as Jinyoung would have.

“Alright, what does Defsoul have for me today?” Dongmin said, finally pocketing his phone and turning to face Jaebum.

Jaebum relaxed when he opened up the file for his new track. It was some of his best work in a while, and he would be proud to show it anyone, even Dongmin.

The speakers began to flood the room with the full sounds of a piano, flowing but heavy with emotion. On its second repeat, the instrumental was joined by drums and bass guitar; on the third, Jaebum’s vocals began to play, crooning bits of lyrics interspersed with humming and wordless singing.

Dongmin raised an eyebrow. The first chorus had barely finished when he said, “Pause it.”

“Wait, you should hear the bri—”

Dongmin strutted over to the computer and hit the pause button himself. “What, you get your heart broken or something?”

Jaebum was stunned into silence, partially because he maybe had felt something akin to heartbreak recently, but mostly because the man in front of him hadn’t even had the patience to listen to the song in its entirety.

“This is fucking depressing,” Dongmin laughed. “How do you expect to fit a rap in here?”

And now he was _laughing_. Jaebum felt the blood rush up to his head, a vein on the side of his neck throbbing. 

“It’s not meant to have a rap. I want this song for JJ Project,” Jaebum said, biting back a grunt.

Dongmin gave him a look. “You’re kidding, right? How many times do we have to tell you? Other than your Japanese album release, JJP won’t have a comeback for at least another year. We need to be pushing Got7.” 

Jaebum hadn’t realized he was curling his hands into fists so hard, the nails were beginning to dig in. “I don’t see why we can’t do both.”

Dongmin scoffed. “Please, you know why. 7 for 7 only reached ninety per cent of our target album sales.”

“But we still hit number 1 on the Gaon cha—”

“And your last MV—wasn’t that another song you made?—hasn’t even cracked forty million views yet.”

Jaebum was not used to being interrupted. Nor was he used to being personally targeted. He was ready to storm out of the room, the only thing keeping him anchored in place being the thought of Jinyoung’s gentle advice. _You have to be patient with him, hyung._

Dongmin looked Jaebum in the eye, and Jaebum knew full well that the anger was visible. “I expected more out of the leader. People these days want Bangtan or they want fresh faces; Got7 is falling behind. So why don’t you start thinking more about your members, huh?”

Jaebum let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, slow and loud from his nostrils. Loathe as he was to admit it, Dongmin was telling the truth. It was a thought that Jaebum usually buried at the back of his mind: this was Got7’s make it or break it year. And as the leader, he had to work even harder.

Once again, Dongmin fished his phone out from his pocket and began to clack away at it. “Look, the song is decent. We all know you’re talented. So go use that talent and turn that track into something Jackson and the other two can rap on. Swap out some of the piano for synth, maybe up the tempo, and we’ll talk again when you’ve got all the lyrics together.”

Whatever was left of Jaebum’s anger was redirected to his feet as he retrieved his flash drive and all but stomped out of the studio.

 

Sometimes, Jinyoung scared himself with how convincing of a front he could put up. Whether it be the smiles he plastered on when shaking strangers’ hands at awards shows or kissing up to interviewers, Jinyoung seemed to have all his true emotions under lock and key. He supposed he’d gotten used to it after years of forcing his eyes and thoughts away from Jaebum. The only thing different now was that he could practically feel a raincloud enter their dorm whenever Jaebum spoke to him. 

Jinyoung really didn’t want to add guilt to the list of feelings he shoved aside. And when he saw Jaebum enter their living room, dark circles under his eyes and fidgeting with a flash drive in hand like he was about to throw it out the window, it wasn’t like Jinyoung could hold the feelings back anyway.

“I hope it’s not me you’re about to murder,” Jinyoung said, setting his book down on the table.

Jaebum plunked himself down on the couch next to him, and Jinyoung tried not to think about the last time they were here together.

“Nope. It’s our favorite senior producer, the one and only Han Dongmin,” Jaebum said, throwing the flash drive so hard it almost knocked Jinyoung’s book off the edge. Jinyoung was strangely relieved so see something other than sadness in his eyes this week; at least he knew how to deal with Jaebum’s temper. And this was far from Jaebum’s worst—he hadn’t seen Jaebum truly angry in years, Jinyoung thought.

“Douchemin,” Jinyoung corrected, earning a small smirk from Jaebum.

“When did we give him that nickname again?”

“After he told Yugyeom he would _never ever_ want to listen want to listen to Never Ever after his first try recording his part.”

“God, what a nightmare.”

“I know, he’s got Mark’s sense of humor but with a slavedriver’s value set.”

“A truly awful combination.”

Jinyoung glanced sideways at Jaebum, drinking in the familiar sight of his eyes disappearing into lines with laughter. Jinyoung tried to ignore the warmth it stirred up in his chest.

“He basically told me to change the whole feel of my song,” Jaebum said. “And the asshole wouldn’t even look up from his phone, which by the way probably has the wrong time since he thought I was late.”

“Damn, haven’t you been staying up on that all week?”

Jinyoung hadn’t meant to let Jaebum know he was watching him so closely, but the words were out before Jinyoung could realize.

Something softened in Jaebum’s expression, and his voice was lower when he replied. “Yeah, I wanted it to be for—” Jaebum cut off, but continued before Jinyoung could ask. “I was just really proud of it is all.”

Jaebum hunched forward with his forearms on his thighs, head hanging low as he stared at the ground. Jinyoung desperately wanted to pat his back, or put his arm around his shoulders, or make any sort of contact. But he restrained himself.

“Dongmin’s full of shit,” were the words Jinyoung settled on. He kicked himself internally—those were not exactly the words of comfort he was aiming for.

But Jaebum still rewarded him with a small smile. “We should probably get some sleep,” he said. “Recording for the Verse 2 Japanese release is tomorrow, right?”

“You mean _I_ should get some sleep,” Jinyoung teased, allowing himself a poke at Jaebum’s rib. “I know you haven’t memorized all the lyrics yet, hyung.”

“Yes, well, sorry I’m not good at languages. If only Park Jinyoung seonsaengnim would teach me instead of reading all the time,” Jaebum huffed.

“That’s Park Jinyoung- _sensei_ to you, Jaebum-san.”

 

Jinyoung awoke the next day feeling light. His conversation with Jaebum the night before had been their first truly honest and amicable interaction since the night they spent drinking. As he freshened up and checked on the other members—all asleep, since only he and Jaebum had a schedule today—he found himself thinking that if he could still make Jaebum smile when he was down, then Jinyoung could live with a little pining.

Well, that was until he reached their hair and makeup room downstairs, which Jaebum had beaten him to arriving at, as usual. They would be filming a teaser for the Japanese MV of Tomorrow, Today at the recording studio, so some styling was a requirement. Jinyoung didn’t mind being pampered and made up as much as Jaebum did; whereas Jaebum couldn’t care less if he appeared to the world bare-faced with messy hair, Jinyoung always liked to put his best foot forward.

And so Jinyoung found it rather unfair that Jaebum looked the way he did. He was dressed in dark skinny jeans with a gray oversized shirt tucked in at the front, asymmetrical triangular piercings glinting in his ears. Some extremely talented noona had styled his dark brown hair into a side part and swoop, framing half his forehead delicately. The puffiness from last night had all but disappeared, emphasizing the sharpness of his eyes and jaw. 

He was perched on the couch against the wall opposite the makeup chairs, busy shuffling papers that were no doubt the Japanese translations for their songs. _Of course he’s still cramming_ , Jinyoung thought fondly.

“Morning, sensei,” Jaebum greeted him with an unfairly attractive smile.

“God, don’t blind me with those teeth,” Jinyoung said, covering his eyes with his forearm. “I need to put my face on.” 

“Stop being such a drama queen and hurry up,” Jaebum replied. “You always look fine anyway,” he added in a softer voice.

That sentence combined with the look of Jaebum was enough to plunge Jinyoung back into his pining. He was lost in his own world as the noonas handed him clothes to change into then applied all manner of product to his face and hair. 

Before he knew it, he was being ushered into one of the bigger recording studios at the JYPE building, Jaebum not far behind him. Their manager and one of the Japanese-speaking producers were standing around the front room, cameramen fixing their equipment in the soundproof booth at the back.

“Good morning hyung, good morning sunbae,” Jinyoung said politely, bowing to them both. Jaebum skipped the formalities and went straight for a friendly clasp of hands with the producer.

“Alright, Junghwa-ssi is a busy man, so try to get this done quick,” their manager said. “Today’s menu: Japanese versions for Coming Home, Tomorrow, Today, and Icarus, plus one exclusive release. The old songs shouldn’t be much trouble, but try not to do too many takes on the new one, okay?”

Their manager was looking at Jinyoung when he gave his instructions, making the younger boy shift around on his feet. Although he said it in a friendly manner, Jinyoung couldn’t help the tinge of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks.

As they entered the soundproof room and moved positions according to the cameramen’s instructions, memories of previous recording sessions spun around in Jinyoung’s mind. They’d been in studios dozens of times, and among the vocal line it was always either himself or Yugyeom slowing down their progress. While Youngjae and Jaebum could usually satisfy the producer’s standards in under an half an hour per song, Jinyoung was often asked to repeat parts more than he liked to count. When it was a JJ Project recording, the sense of shame was only magnified, as he could see the producers’ judging eyes shifting between him and Jaebum.

Not that Jinyoung could blame them. When it was only the two of them, of course they would compare. 

Jinyoung put his headphones on and stood before a microphone and filter, Jaebum directly across from him. The older boy gave him a quick thumbs up as the music started, then squeezed his eyes shut as he began to sing the opening lines. Jinyoung knew full well that he would not be seeing Jaebum’s eyes for the rest of the song. He always kept them tightly shut when trying to sing his best, a delicate bunch of creases appearing between his brows that Jinyoung had always found endearing. Jinyoung couldn’t help but watch Jaebum’s hand movements, seemingly channeling the emotion overflowing from his voice even when singing in a language not his own.

Apparently Jaebum had managed to memorize the lyrics perfectly, too. Of course he did.

Watching and listening to Jaebum, Jinyoung wanted nothing more than to give a performance that could match up. He had been practicing for weeks, and it paid off; their first run of the exclusive Japanese song was free of major errors.

“Good job, guys,” the Junghwa’s voice came in through their headphones, feeding in at the push of a button from the other side of the glass wall. “Mostly clean, but let’s try another run with more feeling. Jinyoung-ah, loosen up a bit and be careful with your high notes. Jaebum-ah, pronounce the words more clearly. I know Jackson tells you that saying it quickly makes you sound fluent. It doesn’t.”

Jinyoung heard Jaebum’s full laugh through the headphones as if there were no space between them, all other sound literally muted. He felt a little dizzy.

“Sorry, sunbae,” Jaebum said, and then turning to face Jinyoung, “again?”

At first, Jinyoung was quite proud of himself throughout recording, receiving no more criticism or instruction than Jaebum did. To Jinyoung, this was a major achievement, as Jaebum sounded immaculate as always: strong and clear voice delivering ad libs like he was born to sing, and in the next moment melting into gentle emotive lines seamlessly. It was like Jaebum never ran out of breath.

But once the second hour rolled around, signs of fatigue were beginning to show in Jinyoung. His voice would crack on the high notes, his breath catching at awkward times between longer lines. Their manager was patient enough, but Jinyoung could hear an undertone of exasperation from the senior producer when he told Jinyoung to repeat second chorus of Tomorrow, Today a fifth time.

Normally, Jinyoung took criticism well. But the fact that he was making Jaebum stand around awkwardly while he couldn’t get his own part down was wearing away at him, especially when the older boy had cruised through their recording with his voice in constant, perfect condition.

Jinyoung risked a glance at Jaebum, expecting some manner of impatience or boredom in his expression. But instead the older boy offered a smile and mouthed the words, _you got this_.

It was as if Jinyoung had drunk warm tea and honey, all his energy restored as he found his voice again.

 

Their recording session finished after four hours, but Jaebum had asked to borrow the studio a bit longer to work on his song. The defeated look that Jinyoung was sporting since about an hour into the recording had been bothering Jaebum to no end; until now, Jaebum had nothing to offer him but smiles and words of encouragement.

When the remaining camera crew shuffled out the studio, their manager following suit with a reminder to shut all the equipment off afterward, Jaebum tapped Jinyoung on the shoulder before he stood up to leave.

“Hey,” Jaebum said. “Wanna help with my song?”

Jinyoung smiled. “Defsoul featuring Jinyoung?” he asked.

“I’m pretty sure we already have a stage name,” Jaebum said wryly, plugging a flash drive into the computer.

“I’m sorry about a while ago,” Jinyoung said suddenly, carding a hand through his hair.

He leaned against the glass wall beside the audio interface, one leg crossed in front with the tip of his shoe to the floor. The stylists had given him a blue sweater with sleeves that hung down to the middle of his hands, light washed denim and center-parted hair making him look much more relaxed than he sounded. His head was hanging low, pulling something in Jaebum’s chest down with it.

“C’mon, Jinyoung, you did nothing wrong.”

“I’m trying, hyung, I really am— but I always end up keeping us here an hour longer than we should be.”

Jaebum knew full well that Jinyoung could hold back any emotion in his face with ease, but on some days, like this one, the cracks would show through his voice.

Jaebum moved to stand directly in front of him. “Hey. Look at me. You get better every single time you step in front of a microphone, you know that?”

Jinyoung responded without words, simply heeding Jaebum’s request. Jinyoung’s eyes were round and doll-like, the pouches under them only making him look milder. But he knew that when it came to work, Jinyoung was anything but mild.

“You did well today.”

Jinyoung finally gave him a small smile. After a pause, he said, “Let’s hear your song.”

The younger boy playfully nudged Jaebum’s shoulder with his own as he pushed himself off the wall. The two of them standing arm to arm in front of the monitor as Jaebum hit the play button.

At the sound of a piano rushing in through the speakers, Jinyoung closed his eyes.

“You see why I felt bad, right,” he said, keeping his eyes shut, “You sing better, you can b-boy and shit, and you make insanely gorgeous music.”

“Stop selling yourself short,” Jaebum said, bumping their shoulders. “You’re better at choreography and all the promotions stuff— oh, and kissing up to the producers. That’s why we’re a team.”

When the chorus rolled in, Jaebum’s recorded _oohs_ and _aahs_ were the only words to a rising melody, powerful and resonating. Jaebum could almost see the cogs working inside Jinyoung’s brain when the younger said, “Put me in, coach.”

In a matter of seconds, Jinyoung had put on his headphones and was back in the soundproof booth. As soon as he had asked Jaebum to play the track without vocals, he was singing words full meaning, singing about repression and rebellion to the tune that Jaebum had written.

Though he hit the wrong notes here and there for lack of familiarity, Jaebum was astonished by how quickly he had come up with lyrics so fitting and poetic when Jaebum himself had been struggling for weeks. 

It was then that Jaebum allowed himself a thought he’d been trying to suppress for longer than he liked to admit. Standing there in front of the microphone, completely in his element as his voice filled Jaebum’s ears, Jinyoung looked absolutely beautiful. 

_And unattainable_ , Jaebum thought, bracing his hand on the glass between them.

Soon after, Jinyoung finished the chorus and ran out of words. Jaebum paused the track and joined him in the soundproof room just as he was hanging his headphones on the mic stand.

“Wow,” Jaebum told him.

“Wow yourself,” Jinyoung said, smiling ear to ear. “This song is perfect. What the hell could Dongmin possibly have said was wrong with it?”

The whiskers under his eyes were showing again, and Jaebum’s feet seemed to move on their own just to get closer to them. They were nearly exactly the same height, eyes and shoulders always in line. From this distance, Jaebum could see Jinyoung’s lips were slightly cracked from the effort of singing all day.

“As a wise man once told me,” Jaebum began, “Maybe he’s just full of shit.”

Jinyoung laughed and punched Jaebum lightly in the arm, his over hand moving up to cover his mouth.

“Alright, for real,” Jaebum said, suddenly feeling a little shy as he looked Jinyoung in the eye. “He actually said it was good— just not for Got7. And he was kind of right because... I wrote this song for us.”

 _I mean, for JJ Project_ , Jaebum was supposed to say.

But before the panic could set in, Jinyoung was closing the gap between them, pressing his lips to Jaebum’s. Both pairs of eyes fell closed immediately as warmth pooled in Jaebum’s gut. Jinyoung was insistent, almost desperate, as he moved his hand up to the back of Jaebum’s neck and pried his lips apart.

Jaebum’s body responded without hesitation, moving forward until he was pinning Jinyoung to the soundproof panels on the wall. Jaebum fisted his hand in Jinyoung’s hair as he pushed his tongue into the younger boy’s mouth, searching for more heat. Jinyoung’s tongue met his own and seemed to challenge him, trying to lick his way behind Jaebum’s teeth. Jaebum pulled away to catch his breath, drawing a gasp out of Jinyoung when he replaced his mouth at the side of Jinyoung’s neck. At first, he did nothing but exhale hot breath along Jinyoung’s skin, but then he was kissing, sucking, moving.

The hand clasping Jaebum’s neck fell to his waist and pulled him closer, tugging on the loose fabric on his shirt. Their chests and stomachs were flush together now, the heat between them trapped and only worsening. Jinyoung sighed at the sensation, and Jaebum followed the sound with his mouth, trailing kisses up from his collarbone until their lips met again.

Jaebum grunted when teeth dragged along his lower lip, and his hand moved of its own accord to slip under Jinyoung’s sweater.

Jinyoung’s eyes snapped open. He gripped Jaebum’s wrist and pulled it away, rough and abrupt. “Hyung,” he said, between gasps as Jaebum redirected his attention to the base of his throat, “We shouldn’t.”

Jaebum paused, trying not to let the words sink in. But it was Jinyoung, and he could never not listen. He shifted his gaze to meet the other boy’s eyes, removing the arm trapping him against the wall. The sudden loss of heat was almost making Jaebum’s view hazy, but he managed the words.

This time, the truth.

“I know. But I want to,” Jaebum said, his tone low but soft. “It’s all I’ve wanted, for so long now,” he said, tracing Jinyoung’s jaw with his fingertips.

Finally, Jaebum could read Jinyoung’s eyes like they were the front page of the book he’d lent him. He saw panic, hunger, sadness. And above all, guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Jinyoung said, and just like that he slipped away from Jaebum’s gaze and out of the studio.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and kind comments! Just a heads up that I’m probably only gonna reply to comments that bring up points of interest, since thanking everyone individually seems a little redundant. Glad you’re having fun now that things are starting to pick up!

“Mark hyung, say something, please,” Jinyoung said, his voice muffled.

He was lying on his stomach in bed, face mashed into a pillow with Mark sitting cross-legged beside him. Beside them a bedside clock that read _2:21 am_ glowed faintly. 

Jinyoung hadn’t left his room since the recording session, feigning fatigue when the other members knocked on his door to call him for dinner. He’d been trying to sleep for four hours, even his dullest and most verbose novels unable to evoke in him the slightest hint of drowsiness, until finally he’d given up and texted Mark to come talk.

But at first, he couldn’t talk at all, simply staring at the ground as Mark waited in silence. Then, as he began to recount what transpired earlier that day, he saw Mark begin to furrow his brow in judgment. And so he resorted to talking to his pillow instead—straight into it, partly because he couldn’t bring himself to look at Mark, and partly because he wanted to suffocate.

“I mean, you said it all already,” Mark said dryly, no doubt referring to the hundreds of times Jinyoung had inserted the sentences _I’m an idiot_ and _I fucked up_ between the events of his story.

Jinyoung finally gathered the courage to sit up and look at him. Between the long, messy bed hair flopping over his forehead and the fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, Mark’s small face was almost completely obscured.

“I guess there’s one more thing,” Mark said, looking him in the eye. “You’re being cruel, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung was taken aback. He knew he was being reckless and irresponsible, but cruelty was not one of the things he was beating himself up about.

“Don’t you realize how Jaebum must be feeling?” Mark continued, a hardness to his expression that Jinyoung hadn’t seen before. “ _You_ initiated, but only _he_ said what he really wanted. And then _you_ ran away.”

Jinyoung stared at a random space on the mattress, his fingers pulling at the loose threads on the sides of his pillow. 

“Do you even know what you want?” Mark asked.

The reality of his words was beginning to draw the familiar sting of tears behind Jinyoung’s eyes. He wanted Jaebum. More than he could possibly put into words.

Just then, the rolling sound of a suitcase filled the hallway. It was followed by three loud knocks on Jinyoung’s door, and then the door was creaking open. 

There was only one person in their group that didn’t wait for permission to enter a room.

“Jinyoungie, I saw the light under your door, I hope you’re feeling better, can I give you a hug before I leave for—”

Jackson stopped dead in his tracks, but only for a second. At the sight of Jinyoung near tears, he dropped the duffel bag slung over his shoulder unceremoniously and knocked over his luggage with it. The sudden crash after hours of silence made Jinyoung wince, but Jackson couldn’t see it from where he was smothering the younger boy with a hug.

“Oh my god, Jinyoungie, what’s wrong?” Jackson said, patting Jinyoung’s back. When he didn’t respond, Jackson took him by the shoulders and shook him back and forth.

Jinyoung found that he didn’t mind being treated like a ragdoll at the moment. Somehow the body heat—Jackson was sporting one of his many different tank tops—and movement was holding his tears back instead of shaking them out.

“Jackson,” Mark said, clearing his throat. “Don’t you have the 5 o’clock flight to Shanghai?”

“Can you believe how insensitive some people can be?” Jackson said, his gaze completely focused on Jinyoung. “As if I wouldn’t make time all the time in the world for my Jinyoungie.”

Jackson’s theatrics combined with Mark’s eyerolling managed to coax a reaction out of Jinyoung. He couldn’t help the corners of his lips twitching upward. “It’s okay, Jackson, don’t be late,” Jinyoung finally said.

Jackson released Jinyoung and firmly planted himself on the floor in front of where Jinyoung and Mark were seated at the bed. “I am not leaving this spot until you tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jinyoung said.

Jackson blinked and crossed his arms.

Mark sighed as he crouched behind Jackson and motioned to slip his arms under Jackson’s shoulders to pull him away, but Jackson interrupted. “My armpits are really fucking sweaty right now,” he threatened, his voice all business.

“Ugh.”

As annoying as it was, Jinyoung found it strangely heartwarming that Jackson would hold his own schedule ransom just to understand his problems. But there was no way that Jinyoung was about to let him miss whatever promotions he had in China this week.

“I am not above locking myself in the closet,” Jackson said.

In a sudden burst of confidence, Jinyoung blurted, “Don’t. It’s not easy coming out of it.”

It was as if they were transported to a desert, for all the tumbleweed that figuratively rolled around the room. Jackson blinked once, twice, and then he was suddenly tackling Jinyoung in another hug.

“Oh my god, Jinyoung,” Jackson exclaimed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, we love you, we all love you, you’re perfect and you don’t need to cry, and—”

“You know you have the gayest ass out of all us, right?” Jinyoung said dryly, sending Mark into a fit of hysterics. The annoyance had officially overpowered the warmth.

Jackson pouted as he released Jinyoung. Suddenly, sitting between his two hyungs on his bed like children around a campfire, Jinyoung had the urge to spill all the contents of his heart.

“Jackson, there’s something else you should know,” Jinyoung said tentatively. 

Mark put a warning hand on his thigh as if to ask _are you sure_ , and Jinyoung nodded with resolve. As loud as Jackson was, he was also loyal and trustworthy like the puppy he claimed to be.

“Jaebum hyung and I—”

“Oh my god,” Jackson said for the third time that night. “Tell me you’re using protection.”

Jinyoung pushed Jackson off the bed before he could see the heat flaring up the younger boy’s cheeks.

“You fucking perv,” Mark cackled, falling back on the bed. “They’re just making out.”

“Why am I not surprised that you’re not surprised,” Jinyoung said, two fingers to his temple.

“Jinyoungie, there’s this thing you do with Jaebummie every time you think we’re not looking,” Jackson said, recovering quickly into a sitting position. And then, in English, “do you know _eye fuck_?” 

Mark absolutely lost it.

“Jacksoooon.” Jinyoung was smiling so wide that his eyes turned to sinister lines. “When you get to China, please never come back.”

“Jinyooooung,” Jackson replied, fully earnest as he took Jinyoung’s hands in his own. “When our dear leader says _come and get it_ , you’re not supposed to take it literally.”

Jinyoung regretted ever opening his mouth, perhaps ever even being born. A good ten minutes was spent on attempted forehead flicks, Jinyoung finally hitting the bullseye when Mark decided to hold Jackson back.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Jackson said, holding his hands up in defense as he moved to sit back on the bed. “This sounds like good news to me. Why were you crying?”

There was a question forming in Jackson’s eyes, one that Jinyoung had been avoiding answering for weeks now.

“Yeah, Jinyoungie,” Mark butted in half-sarcastically, already knowing the truth. “What’s the harm in a little necking?”

After all the ribbing, Jinyoung suddenly found it easier to try honesty on for size.

“We have feelings for each other,” he said plainly. 

The words were light in his mouth, but the weight of their implications seemed to hang in the air between them as soon as they were released. Jackson finally fell silent as understanding dawned upon him.

“Look,” Mark said, looking from Jackson to Jinyoung. The youngest knew he was speaking for both of them. “We don’t care what you guys get up to behind closed doors. That’s your business.”

“Yeah. Just— just, be careful,” Jackson added. It was disquieting for Jinyoung to hear him be so hesitant, but it reminded him all the more that Jackson was dead serious.

Jinyoung said the words the other two were too considerate to voice: “Of course. Our team comes first.”

“So you can’t be fighting with Jaebum all the time,” Mark continued. “He deserves the truth.”

“This is going to sound dumb, even coming from me,” Jackson prefaced, “but maybe in a few years, you guys can actually…”

 _Be together_ , Jinyoung thought. The idea almost made him laugh, the sheer fantasy of it.

“Yeah, sorry I said anything. I just meant— you guys need to be patient,” Jackson said.

The atmosphere was suddenly heavy, and Jinyoung was grateful for the excuse of the clock hitting the next hour. The two of them ushered Jackson out the door with his luggage, leaving Jinyoung wishing he could fly away as well.

 

Jaebum could hardly remember the last time he was this angry. Twice now, Jinyoung had kissed him like he was made of fire, and then left the coals to burn out.

The worst part was that Jaebum had bared his heart. Months of feelings he’d worked so hard to keep to himself, all spilled out like marbles for Jinyoung to play with. And Jinyoung was absolutely brutal at the game, taking them all for himself with nothing more than a flimsy apology.

He’d even had the nerve to say he wasn’t feeling well that day, just so they wouldn’t have to see each other. And yet Jaebum could think of nothing but how sweet his neck had tasted and the way his sighs ghosted across his ears. Jaebum absolutely hated himself as he tugged himself off that night, realizing that it wasn’t just anger he was feeling.

It was humiliation.

There was nothing Jaebum hated more than feeling small. Whether this was an inborn trait or a side effect of having been a hyung or a leader for so long, he didn’t know. But all he had to deal with on the regular were simple jibes from the other members and embarrassing videos revealed on variety shows; no one had made a complete fool of him in years.

_Jinyoung gripped his shoulder to stop him from leaving. “It’s only another two years.”_

_They had just come back from a meeting with management. Hours and hours of shuffling papers and condescending sermons from people he hardly recognized, but these were the people who pulled the strings behind every aspect of his life visible to the public. There seemed to be no end to their words, and Jinyoung would tell him later that they were talking about numbers and projections that JJ Project failed to meet. They threw around phrases like unfortunate, bad timing, a hundred other euphemisms._

_But all Jaebum heard was_ you’re not good enough. __

_“Only?” Jaebum nearly spat at Jinyoung. “You wanna go back to being a trainee? Practice like zombies all day just to go home to a shit dorm? Why are you so willing to let them treat us like fools?”_

_Jinyoung winced. “I hate it too, you know,” he admitted. “But what are we supposed to do? Just go home? We’ve survived this long.”_

_Jaebum thought of his parents, how he had spent months trying to convince them to let their only son quit his regular school to become an idol. He felt guilt rise up to meet the bitter taste in his mouth._

_“Who’s to say the new group won’t be a complete failure, too, huh?” he said through his teeth._

_Jinyoung answered firmly. “We were_ not _a complete failure.”_

_Jaebum stared at him, trying to find the lie in his eyes. But it wasn’t there._

_“_ You _aren’t a failure,” Jinyoung continued softly. “You’re the strongest person I know.”_

Sitting before his computer monitor, he found it ironic that the bottle of soju he was going through dangerously quickly would conjure up a memory in which Jinyoung was a positive presence. 

He barely heard the knock on his door.

“Hyung, emergency!” Youngjae’s voice boomed from the hallway, so loud that Jaebum heard it clear through both the alcohol and the supposed noise cancelers covering his ears. Reluctantly, he hid the bottle under his desk and shed his headphones, slogging across his room.

Youngjae was talking before Jaebum even made it to the door. “Sorry to bother you, Jaebum hyung, but Nora was being really loud in the living room and I figured you were too busy to feed her, so I tried to feed her myself, but my allergies— ah, why does it smell like alcohol in here?”

Jaebum was sure he looked like a mess, but at the mention of Nora, he was nearly sprinting out the door. He couldn’t believe he was fucked up enough to miss feeding his beloved cat.

Youngjae trailed a few meters behind him as he retrieved cat food from a shelf in the kitchen and brought it to Nora, unsure whether the distance was for fear of allergies or Jaebum himself.

“Hyung, are you alright?” Youngjae asked, the long bangs flopping all over his forehead making him seem even more like a little brother. “Usually you feed Nora before you even feed yourself.”

“Actually, I’m not. Had to work with Dongmin-ssi,” Jaebum said, reasoning that a partial lie was acceptable. Even though Youngjae was well into adulthood by now, Jaebum sometimes found himself restricting the expletives he would normally pair with the mention of Dongmin in his dongsaeng’s presence.

“Ah, I hate that guy.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Maybe Jackson? I think he likes Jackson.”

“Youngjae-ah,” Jaebum said affectionately as he returned to his room, “Rhetorical.”

“Right,” Youngjae said, stopping shyly at the door.

Jaebum was grateful for the younger boy’s honest nature—uncomplicated interaction couldn’t have arrived at a better time. By the way Youngjae was shuffling his feet, Jaebum already knew what he was about to ask.

“Yes, you can listen to my song. Yes, I want your help,” Jaebum said with a smile. “Douchemin says I need to change it from a drama theme song to a rock ballad.”

A gargantuan grin spread across Youngjae’s face as he pulled up a chair to work beside Jaebum. “Actually, I was going to ask you to share your soju stash.”

“Yah, how did you know about that?”

“I’m not _that_ oblivious, hyung.”

Youngjae’s laughter was an absolute breath of fresh air, Jaebum catching his funny bug not long after. More than the alcohol, Jaebum sure as hell could’ve used a shot of sunshine.

 

Within three days, Jaebum’s song had finally turned into something he could call complete. Youngjae had been an enormous help both technically and morally, the new arrangement supporting the melody in a much better way than Jaebum could’ve expected to craft on his own. Youngjae had also helped morph the verses into rap, keeping the theme and message perfectly intact, if not even more fleshed out.

It was quite a different message from what Got7 usually put out there. As much as Jaebum didn’t want to admit it, Jinyoung’s words for the chorus had become the heart of the entire song. Jaebum had finished his borrowed book rather quickly despite it reminding him of the younger boy, and it had inspired the undertones of alienation to the song. Altogether, the lyrics told a story of the pressures facing those in the spotlight: to look, sound, and act perfect at all times. To smile through pain, and be what they want you to be, not who you are. 

Jaebum hadn’t expected this level of honesty to pour through from him, but the song had become something of an outlet when he didn't have Jinyoung to talk to. He swelled with pride as he added _Defsoul_ to the producer information for the audio file, his insides warming even more when Youngjae typed _Ars_ right beside it.

It was a shame that Youngjae was busy practicing for a solo appearance on Immortal Songs on the day Jaebum had set a meeting with the producers. However, he would be sure to credit his dongsaeng for what would no doubt be a title track.

Jaebum took a deep breath as he entered the recording studio from the week before, where both Junghwa and Dongmin were waiting for him this time.

The two senior producers were engaged a conversation in hushed tones as Jaebum entered, but he caught the mention of words like _English_ and _global_. This time, Jaebum made sure he was ten minutes early.

“Jaebum-ah, nice to see you,” Junghwa said as he clapped him on the shoulder. Dongmin gave a curt nod, still busy with his phone.

The pair of them was rather odd, Junghwa being nearly a decade younger but larger in stature. Jaebum realized Junghwa wasn’t too far off in age from himself. He also dressed a bit more formally, the casual gray blazer contrasting against Dongmin’s perpetual leather—but Jaebum supposed it was no more odd than how Yugyeom would tower over the other members.

Jaebum bowed to them both and engaged in a bit of small talk about the other members and working on JJ Project’s Japanese debut. When Junghwa informed him that they would be doing promotions in Japan within the next two months, Jaebum hoped his grimace wasn't visible. He was sure to keep his tone level at the mention of Jinyoung, thinking bitterly that actor Park would’ve been proud of how well Jaebum was buttering up the producers.

Nevertheless, Jaebum was full of confidence when he plugged his flash drive in, ready to let his music do the rest of the talking.

Junghwa seemed to enjoy the intro, nodding his head in time with the beat. He chuckled when he heard Jaebum demo the rap in the verse, Dongmin saying nothing. When the chorus rolled in, a powerful swell of melody, the younger producer was positively feeling it, snapping and moving his arms.

But then, at the second chorus, he stopped and gave Jaebum a look.

“Wait, did I hear that right?” he asked in confusion. “Yah, JB, show me the lyrics.”

Jaebum blinked and scrambled to open the appropriate note on his phone, passing it to Junghwa.

The senior producer squinted at the tiny font, only for his eyes to widen in disbelief. He scrolled furiously, reading the lyrics to himself in hushed tones. He fell into silence as the last chorus came on, Youngjae’s recorded voice belting out a high note as Jaebum sang a more powerful variation on the main melody. Despite the gravity of its lyrics, the song ended on a major chord, giving it the feel of an anthem.

Anthems were meant to make listeners feel empowered, Jaebum thought. But he could feel the strength draining out of his legs as Junghwa gave him a hard look.

“What the hell is this?” Junghwa said, his tone was somewhere between disgust and disbelief. “The rap in the second verse? _Eat want you want to eat when the cameras are there, then spit it all out ’til your bones are bare_ ,” he read.

“I know it’s a bit controversial—” Jaebum began.

“Controversial?” Junghwa said mockingly, his voice rising. “Are you kidding me? The media would have a field day with this.”

“You’re always telling us we need to be more like Bangtan, right?” Jaebum said, his own voice gaining volume in response. “They’re popular because they write songs about the youth and our issues. I’d say my song talks about a pretty big issue.”

“No, Jaebum,” Junghwa said, drumming his hand on the table. The condescension in his voice seemed to slither down Jaebum’s spine. “BTS are popular because they’re always on social media. Something we’ve been telling Got7 to work harder at for ages now.”

“I think the kid did good,” Dongmin interjected, eyes still trained on his phone. “Does it have a title?”

“It doesn’t matter if the song is _good_ ,” Junghwa spat, suddenly standing up. His chair made an awful screeching noise as it dragged against the floor. “Jaebum, are you unhappy or something? Do you think JYP doesn’t treat you well enough?”

There was the blood again, threatening to burst the veins in Jaebum’s neck. And there were the nails again, this time leaving crescent-shaped marks in Jaebum’s arms where he crossed them.

“Of course not, Junghwa-ssi.” Jaebum uttered the last syllable like it was a curse. “It’s not about me, it’s about the industry. You know how it is— weren’t you a trainee, too, at some point?”

Junghwa sneered at him. “Yeah. And yet it’s the ingrates that they let debut.”

Ingrate. Jaebum wouldn’t have cared if Junghwa had called him an asshole or an idiot, but _ingrate_ was just too great a falsehood for him to tolerate. He loved his job, loved being an artist. That was the very reason he’d written this song.

Junghwa yanked the flash drive from its port and all but threw it at Jaebum from across the room. “It’s all about the image,” he said, shaking his head. The anger was replaced by that same patronizing tone. “Six years and two debuts and you still don’t know the first thing about being an idol. What a joke.”

Jaebum could’ve sworn the room turned red, his head pulsing with adrenaline-filled blood. It took all his strength not to throw a punch at Junghwa, right there, just under his jaw. Jaebum imagined how easily he would crumple on impact.

“Get out of here,” the senior producer said, as if to challenge him.

 _You’re the strongest person I know,_ another voice from years ago said.

Teeth gritted and fists clenched, Jaebum turned his heel and stormed out of the room.

 

Today was the day, Jinyoung told himself.

Not that he hadn’t been telling himself that for the past three days, all the while fielding Mark’s accusatory glances at him for not having spoken with Jaebum yet. In Jinyoung’s defense, the leader hadn’t made it easy for him—straight after dance practice, Jaebum would lock himself up in his room, occasionally taking Youngjae with him.

Jinyoung wondered how much Youngjae knew, feeling a little guilty that he’d already let two people in on what was happening between him and Jaebum.

 _Whatever it is,_ Jinyoung thought as he opened the door of his bedroom to step out. Someone’s footsteps were barging down the hallway, and the first thing that came into his vision was an angry, protruding chin. 

The sight of it was so familiar and endearing that Jinyoung suddenly built up all the audacity to call out, “Jaebum hyung, can we talk?”

But then the entirety of Jaebum was approaching, and Jinyoung realized with a start that he hadn’t seen that look in his eyes for years.

Jaebum’s hair was disheveled like he’d been trying to tear it out, his white shirt drenched down the back with sweat. The rips in his jeans might as well have been clawed out by his bare hands for the way they were opening and closing, like he was trying to strangle a ghost. His eyes were wide open but the whites were barely visible, his Adam’s apple jumping between his ragged breaths.

Suddenly, Jaebum was standing so close to him that Jinyoung could count the veins pulsing at his neck. Jinyoung’s heart started to pound as if it were a lion in front of him instead.

“Yeah, now you want to talk?” Jaebum said, eyes narrowed until all Jinyoung could see in them was black. His voice was lower and rougher than Jinyoung had ever heard it.

“Let’s talk, then,” Jaebum growled, pushing Jinyoung so hard that he fell backwards onto the bed. It only took Jaebum a second to kick the door closed before he jumped right on top of him, trapping head between forearms and hips between knees.

Jinyoung bit back a scream when he felt Jaebum’s open mouth on the crook of his neck. He was almost mechanically precise when he chose a particular patch of sensitive skin and began to suck at it mercilessly.

“Did you mean it, that pathetic apology?” Jaebum asked against his neck, hot breath working its way down Jinyoung’s spine. He was using one arm to brace himself and the other to clamp down on Jinyoung’s thigh, his thumb circling the soft flesh on the inside.

“No,” Jinyoung breathed when Jaebum dragged his teeth along his collarbone, his eyes squeezing shut.

“What did you really want to say?” Jaebum said, stopping at his shoulder and biting down. Jinyoung yelped, his hand coming up to fist in the cloth at the back of Jaebum’s shirt.

“That I—” he said between gasps as Jaebum licked up his neck, “—want it, too.”

Jaebum used his tongue to trace a path from Jinyoung’s jawline to just under his ear, whispering directly into it. “Want what?”

Jinyoung shivered, barely managing to find his voice as Jaebum rucked his shirt up to grasp at his waist.

“You.”

Just like that, Jaebum ground his hips down on Jinyoung’s, the mound of his crotch generating too much friction as he rolled again and again. Jinyoung yelped at the contact, the denim suddenly feeling too tight.

“Not so quiet now, huh,” Jaebum said, angling his face right above Jinyoung’s. His hand moved down to palm Jinyoung through his pants, gripping tighter when he found a hardness to latch on to.

It had been too much until now, Jaebum’s aggression stunning Jinyoung into compliance. But he was being teased now, and Jinyoung remembered exactly who it was on top of him. He opened his eyes to face Jaebum head on as he undid the button on the older boy’s jeans and released his hard-on.

Jaebum inhaled sharply, faltering slightly on his arm when Jinyoung began to pump up and down his length. Through the haze of heat, Jaebum managed to undo Jinyoung’s own zipper and free other boy’s cock. “Since when?”

Jinyoung licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling too dry. All he could see was the hard line of Jaebum’s jaw and the straining ridges of muscle along his upper arm. “Years,” he breathed.

“All that time,” Jaebum said, his tone half disbelief and half hunger as he swiped at Jinyoung’s head. The liquid beginning to pool there was soon spread all around the shaft, allowing Jaebum to increase his pace. “Always the actor.”

Jinyoung pumped him harder in turn, and all their words were lost as the tension rose higher and higher, replaced by grunts and heavy breaths. Jaebum fell forward in anticipation, his forehead against Jinyoung’s.

The older boy groaned in relief as he spilled over Jinyoung’s stomach, somehow still keeping his pace tugging Jinyoung’s erection. The feeling of his warm release on his flesh made Jinyoung cry out, and he splintered apart in his grasp.

It might’ve been an eternity that passed between them, or maybe it was seconds, but Jaebum was the first to stand and put himself back in order. He grabbed tissues from the bedside table and wiped Jinyoung’s stomach off, desperate for something to do that didn’t involve eye contact.

Jinyoung fixed himself but remained supine on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Good talk?” he asked the air.

In spite of it all, Jaebum bit his lower lip in a grin. “Holy shit.”

“Good talk,” Jinyoung repeated, laughing now. He supposed he’d found a new way to deal with Jaebum’s anger.


End file.
